


c r u s h

by Tsume_Yuki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Rigel Black Chronicles - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Female Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Crush, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Post Ruse Reveal, suddenly this crush business makes sense now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: now isn't the time for a first kiss.
Relationships: Harriet Potter | Rigel Black/Lionel Hurst
Comments: 14
Kudos: 134
Collections: Rigel Black Exchange Round 2





	c r u s h

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meek-bookworm (readertorider)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/readertorider/gifts).



> quick last minute gift so there will be mistakes :D

“Alright there, Lass?”

Harry hums, not quite saying anything, but giving enough of an indication that she is indeed listening.

From where he’s half crouched by the entrance to one of the shadier alleyways that branch off from Knockturn, Leo cocks his head back, eyeing her curiously. The usual sharp set of his dark brows are interrupted by the fact one is only half-present, having been singed off in the latest attack on the Lower Alleys.

Recalling that particular instance is not something Harry wants to spend her time doing right now when they have something promisingly productive going on.

Ever since everything had gone to hell following the Triwizard Tournament, ever since she’d had to Polyjuice herself a new disguise and don a different (temporary, it’s temporary) name for the time being, things hadn’t been the same.

All of her friends from her time as Rigel probably hate her, all of her family are too risky to contact without potentially sucking them into culpability for the illegal activities she’s undertaken, and all of her dreams of being a world famous potioneer under her own name are, at present, shot to hell.

Yet, she has managed to retain this portion of her life.

Now, _Henriette Bedeau_ , seventeen years old and a bastard halfblood from the back alleys of Paris, has found her way over to England, looking to build herself a better life following trouble with her half-brother. That is the story she is running with; no one looks twice at another lowly waif in the Lower Alleys. Especially given Harry doesn’t want them looking twice.

Magic truly is a marvellous thing.

“I’m fine,” Harry confirms, slowly shuffling forwards to join Leo by the mouth of the alley. It’s a difficult thing, what with having to keep low and out of line of sight. She’s got a battle potion wafting through the air that makes it near-impossible to see things below a certain height, leaving them disguised within an artificial morning mist.

It is not the fact that they’re about to ambush one of the wizards suspected of working for the wizards in black who have been attacking the Alleys (and the Quidditch World Cup) that had stilled Harry’s movements for a moment though.

No, it’d been the way that Leo had chanced a glance at her over his shoulder, hazel eyes dark in the early morning’s sun, face bathed in the background of the dawning sky’s soft oranges and gentle teals.

It feels a bit like waking up, a bit like banishing a haze and seeing the world again only there’s something off about it. The sudden impact of having her ruse stripped away, of anyone and everyone being able to see beneath the mask she’s so painstakingly crafted, it’d shattered some small part of her, left her scrambling.

Fleeing from the scene, escaping from Riddle’s towering rage and the sure scorn of her friends is little more than a blur in her mind.

Right up until she runs into Leo.

She can’t quite remember his face following that, can’t quite remember much other than his disappointment that she didn’t trust him with this and the surety that he would help hide her.

And hide her he had.

Now, now it’s three weeks later and she’s hard at work in the Court, determined to do something progressive while the rest of her life is up in flames that she can’t douse on her own. Which means teaming up with Leo to solve these attacks.

“I’ll take him from the right; quiet and without anyone noticing.”

“I can cover you.” It won’t be difficult; they’ve both taken a disillusionment shape imbued potion (the ‘notice-me-not’ as Leo had jokingly called it) and it’s only because they split the potion that Harry can even see Leo properly.

While it’d made logically sense at the time now, in the cresting sunlight, she’s starting to think that maybe that was a bit of a bad decision.

She’s always known academically that Leo is attractive; she’s known for a while that he’s quite good looking, had been forced to take notice of it when he’d confessed to feeling more for her than friendship.

And it is terribly inconvenient for it to suddenly punch her in the stomach right now.

Yet, there’s no shaking it.

When she chances a glance at Leo from the corner of her eyes, Harry’s heart picks up speed, the saliva in her mouth dries up and the blood heats beneath the skin of her borrowed cheeks. When the easy grin slides across his lips, her palms grow slick with sweat and it’s remarkably unpleasant; she won’t let him into her flat right now when she’s brewing. Too much of a distraction to risk it, especially when she’s creating potions for Maywell. The last thing she needs is it getting back to the authorities that an unlicensed girl was brewing advance potions and blew herself up.

“Ready?” Leo asks, cocking that half-eyebrow in her direction and Harry smiles back against her will, feeling the muscles of her stolen face twist differently to the Rigel features she’d long since grown used to. Maybe someday, she’ll actually be able to wear her own face again. But that day is not today.

Today, she lets her eyes linger on the tanned skin of Leo’s neck once he’s taken down their target, focusing on the single droplet of sweat that beads by the jugular vein, or the muscles that flex when he clenches his jaw. Covering the King of Rogues from being seen by any potential witnesses is hardly difficult; it’s early morning and the handful of people who are up early enough to witness a summer’s day are either groggy or still lingering in a drunken stupor. It’s just the two of them who are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Just her and Leo and an unconscious wizard who may or may not be involved in the attacks over the past year.

“That was easy,” Harry muses, prodding at their hostage with the toe of her boot. Not her regular boots; she’s too easily associated with them now. Instead, she’s wearing a pair borrowed from Rispah for the time being. The small heel adds a little to her height without making them uncomfortable to walk in. She’s still shorter than Leo though.

“We make a good team, Lass.” They do. Harry knows this as surely as Leo does.

And, while it’s not what she pictured she’d be doing on the morn of her fifteenth birthday, spending it with Leo is far from a hardship. They work so well together; Leo’s magic works efficiently alongside hers whenever they come into contact with one another. Her own magic wants to help him as much as she does.

And, when she looks at him now, it’s easy to realise why Draco had been so overcome by emotions back at Hogwarts, how he hadn’t been able to help himself as he pressed his lips to hers. Because if he’d felt the same things she’s feeling now while looking at Leo’s easy smile and warm eyes, then Harry totally gets it.

Now isn’t the time for a first kiss though; they have a prisoner to interrogate.


End file.
